


Baked

by DramioneFanfictionForum, I_was_BOTWP



Series: A Collection of Gifts [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Minor Drug Use, Workplace Romance, ministry workers, pot plant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneFanfictionForum/pseuds/DramioneFanfictionForum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_was_BOTWP/pseuds/I_was_BOTWP
Summary: Prompts: "The Minister could fire us for this.", a misunderstanding, Lucius Malfoy, a pot plant, broken glasses, purple ink(Prompt fulfilled by I was BOTWP)





	Baked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LightofEvolution](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightofEvolution/gifts).



> Prompts: "The Minister could fire us for this.", a misunderstanding, Lucius Malfoy, a pot plant, broken glasses, purple ink
> 
> (Prompt fulfilled by I was BOTWP)

**Prompts: "The Minister could fire us for this.", a misunderstanding, Lucius Malfoy, a pot plant, broken glasses, purple ink**

 

Word came into the Auror department via Lucius Malfoy, who’d turned secret informer to avoid paying stiff fines on top of his Azkaban stint, that Rodolphus Lestrange could be found in Edinburgh.  Harry quickly assigned his two top Aurors, Hermione and Draco, to bring the rogue Death Eater in.

 

Draco sent a memo down to the portkey department asking for one to be ready in 10 minutes with the coordinates given them by Lucius.

 

Imagine the duo’s confusion when they found themselves in the alley next to a Muggle bakery, still clutching the broken glasses which landed them there.

 

Hermione searched the area, looking at the other shops nearby to see if she could make some sense of their situation. Had Lucius gotten something wrong?

 

She rounded on Draco and hissed, “Is this a set up?”

 

Draco honestly didn't know what to think. His uncle had never shown any inclination towards baking, or even cooking, as far as he knew. That's what house elves were for.

 

Hermione grew frustrated the longer it took for her partner to answer.

 

_ Oh shite. _ Draco’s breath hitched; this had recently become his reaction when the ends of Hermione’s hair began to spark in response to her ire.  Whereas before the evidence of her unrestrained magic only caused trepidation, the small fiery particles now triggered desire.

 

Hermione hadn’t missed the way Draco’s pupils lately began to dilate while regarding her in certain situations.  For three years they managed to work together without too many snags and she wasn’t sure she wanted to jeopardize their hard won camaraderie.

 

At least, that’s what her brain told her when he gave her a smouldering look.  A very different part of her body responded quite the opposite.

 

_ Down girl,  _ she told herself.  She kept their assignment forefront in her mind, attempting to ignore how Draco’s eyes flitted down to her lips as he licked his own.

 

“Maybe we should at least go in?” Draco managed to cut off his lascivious thoughts in order to speak.

 

By unspoken agreement, born of established routine, Hermione cast a Notice-Me-Not charm, an anti-apparition jinx, and kept an eye on their surroundings, while Draco surreptitiously cast a series of detection spells on the building next to them.

 

“There's an extension charm, a Muggle Repelling charm, warming spells, and some kind of containment spell on the back half of the building.”

 

The last one was worrisome, as it could be acting as a barrier against almost anything escaping.

 

The misunderstanding of where Lucius had sent them culminated when the two Aurors busted down the back door, wands blazing, expecting manticores or baby dragons, and instead found Rodolphus trimming pot plants. The spell was keeping nothing more than the strong smell in.

 

“Oh bollocks, I hate the reports which require purple ink,” Hermione murmured to herself as they assessed the amount of evidence around them.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. He had long lost count of the number of times Hermione went into a rant about purple ink being only meant for a thirteen-year-old girl’s journal and not Ministry documents. 

 

“I have an idea.” Draco’s voice took on a seldom-heard mischievous edge.

 

“Let’s hear your brilliant idea, then.”

 

“We haven't called for back-up yet,” he noted the obvious, using the toe of his dragonhide boot to nudge the stunned and tied up Death Eater on the floor. “Who’s to know if there is a bit less evidence?”

 

He cocked an eyebrow.

 

She stared at him in disbelief.

 

“What? Aren’t you curious what it’s like to not be so straight-laced all day, every day?”

 

She continued to stare at him in disbelief.

 

“Come on Granger, live a little.” He smirked as he saw her back straighten in regards to his challenge. 

 

Hermione chose not to ask where Draco learned a spell to infuse marijuana into the brownies he bought from the bakery out front.

 

Half an hour later, they sat on a conjured sofa together, attempting to fill out their report as Hermione kept giggling, “You know the Minister could fire us for this.”

 

Hermione felt freer than she had in ages. She gave Draco a flirtatious look as she pulled her hair from its ties and shook the curls out. She giggled again at her own daring.

 

“I’m excellent at keeping secrets.” Draco’s voice took on a husky edge as he leaned towards her conspiratorially.

 

He couldn’t help thinking that angry Hermione had nothing on unrestrained Hermione. Draco's arm moved up to the back of the couch and his fingers twined into her hair seemingly of their own volition.

 

The laughter died on her lips as her eyes widened and her heartbeat sped up.


End file.
